


Dezolisian Rituals

by The_Exile



Series: Skure Crisis [5]
Category: Phantasy Star (Video Games)
Genre: Fire, Gen, Mid-Canon, Omens & Portents, Phantasy Star ii - Freeform, Random & Short, Spoilers, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 10:02:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4662507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Exile/pseuds/The_Exile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Eclipse Torch was never meant to burn forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dezolisian Rituals

The Eclipse Torch was never meant to burn forever. It was meant to be lit during every eclipse, reborn with the return of a new sun, a forever born, extinguished and returning flame like the soul of a phoenix.

It was not always the heart of our faith it has become today. We always worshipped fire, yes, but there was never meant to be a symbol. The Cathedral that stands here today was once the Corona Tower, built so that its roof would be open to the sun to be viewed by the procession that wound slowly up its spiral steps, led by the High Priest, backed up by warriors, with the chosen torchbearer protected from all sides. To be torchbearer was to carry the sun itself as sacrifice to the oncoming darkness, the greatest honour a Dezolisian could dream of. A pure woman on her moon blood was usually chosen, but of course, such things cannot be planned any more than the seasons of nature, only predicted by wise men. Sometimes there was nobody suitable at the time of an eclipse and someone simply had to be chosen, usually by strength of virtuous deed. 

An Eclipse Torch was always lit during an eclipse.

As the darkness fell, as the chill descended, the pilgrimage to Corona would begin, from all the homesteads at Skure, Zosa, Ryuon, Jut and Meese. We travelled in silence and the feeling was palpable, of apprehension, of fear mingled with excitement at the understanding that something great was washing over the world. We would travel through snowstorms to reach the Tower and somehow we always survived. No beasts came out during the Eclipse - the priests would tell us they have their own secret ceremonies. Then we climbed the tower in darkness, repeating the simple chant in praise of the fire at the world's heart and the merciful darkness that came to all, a song with origins lost in time, part of the mysteries that are kept, not picked apart like a roast rabbit with flesh picked of bones.

The Torch would be lit on the roof of the Corona Tower, amidst a chanting circle. Visions were often seen in its first newborn flickering flames. Then we would wait in prayer for the light to return. Finally, we would return to the foot of the tower but the Torch would remain in its holder, to take the path a flame always does in its element.

Once the Torch was given to a hero in exchange for the ruby heart of a dragon but that was meant with no disrespect. We had seen in a vision that the Alisia would need the Torch. Mostly, we just wanted to make sure she was competent enough to fight a dragon. 

No, the Torch cannot burn forever. It is renewed every night by a monk hidden away in the basement who uses Nafoi on it and does nothing else. He is the last oracle ever given to the world by the flame. He knows why this is so: he knows that nature is broken, that destiny is broken, that even Dezolis only lives on borrowed time. He used to live in Skure, which isn't supposed to be a place to live any more, with a man who survived the plague a thousand years ago. That was before the flame called him.

It is true, though, that the flame once used to warm up frozen trees and keep nuts fresh has become an instrument of cleansing, of divine purification, and that something very evil will one day burn in its heat. He has seen it, and it has nothing to do with carnivorous trees.

One day, out beyond the stars where no hero of Algol should ever be, a fortune teller told a Prince that worlds will burn where he steps. That, too, was nothing to do with his adventure. 

The priest calmly waits in the darkness while more of his soul is replaced by flame.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally just some random plot ideas jotted down, then I remembered that the Dezolisians believed the accident on Dezolis was caused by Palmans disrespecting the Eclipse Torch, so I thought it would be cool to work it into the Skure weirdness.


End file.
